


Serenade

by clover71



Category: Kyou Kara Maou!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-09
Updated: 2014-01-09
Packaged: 2018-01-08 02:37:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1127349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clover71/pseuds/clover71
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a quest to rescue the children that had been abducted from the kingdom, Yuuri and Wolfram, along with the rest of the king's subjects, embarked on a voyage across the world, unaware that they were likewise setting out on a course to salvage what was left of their failing engagement..</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> \- This story is inspired by several fairy tales (and a movie) and gold star to those who can guess what they are.  
> \- This was written for the [Journey Story BigBang](http://journeystory.livejournal.com/) 2013 at LiveJournal.  
> \- [This is the music](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ABOxTtxJxNw) I used as inspiration for the scenes involving a flute. You'll know once you read this.  
> .  
> .  
>  **DISCLAIMER:** I do not own Kyo Kara Maoh and its characters. Copyright remain with its creators.  
> .  
> .
> 
> * * *

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 **Chapter 1**

 

"Once upon a time, there lived a very beautiful queen," were the words that made Shibuya Yuuri stop en route to his office. Greta's dulcet voice floated through the corridors like a gentle breeze, prompting him to make a detour to the garden where the enticing sound seemed to be coming from.

There he found Greta sprawled on the quilt covering a portion of the thick green carpet of grass, legs stretched out before her with little El on her lap. Both of them had their eyes glued on the open book in Greta's hands though Yuuri was certain that El was only fascinated with the pictures on the pages since the little one couldn't read yet. 

"The queen was at a loss. For her to be able to return to her homeland, she needed to spin hay into gold. But that was impossible, even with her magic," Greta read on, the rise and fall of her pitch gave off a dramatic effect. "Then an old man appeared out of nowhere, offering to help her with her crisis if she would promise to give him her youngest born child." 

_Hmm…_ Yuuri thought. Somehow that story sounded awfully familiar. 

Greta must have sensed him because she tilted her head to glance his way. "Hey, Yuuri," she greeted with a wave of her hand. El climbed off her lap and toddled over to him. 

"Hey, you two." Yuuri bent to pick up El and tossed the toddler up in the air, earning him a string of giggles. "Man, you sure are getting heavy," he told the child as he held him close. Despite being three, El looked more like he was only a year old, but there was no denying that he was growing fast. 

"Have your guests from Caloria left?" Greta asked, setting the book aside. She folded her legs and tucked them under her, leaving a considerable space on the quilt in the process.

Yuuri took that as a silent invitation and dropped down beside her, bringing El with him. "Yeah. Just saw them off. So. Wolfram and the others will be back today, huh?" His fiancé had been away for the past two weeks and Yuuri felt rather guilty for not being able to follow him to Bielefelt land as promised, for not being there when Wolfram celebrated his 86th spring – his birth anniversary. There was a situation with some troublemakers at Small Cimaron that Saralegi needed help with and Yuuri was held back in that country for one reason or another. 

"Yep." Greta's smile waned and her brown eyes sliding up at the sky. "They should be on their way." It was clear that she was still upset with Yuuri for breaking his promise but she had been too polite to say anything. Although. Her unusual mood could likewise be attributed to the fact that she was forced to come home earlier than scheduled. Hube and Gwendal had to be at Blood Pledge for the meeting with the Caloria representatives and young El – who, of course had to come along with his parents, Nicola and Hube – wouldn't part with Greta so Wolfram had asked her to travel with the group instead. 

Not wanting to dwell on the thought of how equally – perhaps much more – upset Wolfram was, Yuuri decided to change the topic. He grabbed the discarded book and studied the cover that had an illustration of a woman with long golden hair who fairly resembled Lady Celi if he looked a bit closer. "What's this you were just reading?"

"A new story from Lady Anissina," was his thirteen-year-old adopted daughter's rather unenthusiastic response. 

"I see." Yuuri was about to remind her how Anissina's books weren't all appropriate for young children when Dacoscos came trotting up to them to inform Yuuri that Wolfram and his entourage were riding into town. Yuuri almost stumbled in his haste to get back on his feet. He held out his hand to his daughter, said, "Come, Greta. Let's go meet Wolfram," and helped her up before sweeping little El over his shoulder.

 

*

 

Wolfram could feel the telltale signs of fatigue coursing through every vein in his body the moment they crossed the town gates. He gave the rein a gentle tug and his horse slowed from its rhythmic trot to an unhurried gait. 

The whole kingdom seemed to have been swept in a blanket of silence for a heartbeat. There was a nagging feeling at the back of his neck that all eyes were on him. Probably looking at him with pity because he, the future prince consort, was once again disregarded by his fiancé – the king of Shin Makoku. His wimp of a fiancé, if he was to be specific. He braved to let his eyes scan around him for a second, only to find that people were in fact minding their own business. 

_Damn._ Was he being paranoid?

His mother's carriage glided right beside his horse and he saw, through peripheral vision, his mother looking past the parted curtains. "It's good to be finally home, isn't it, Wolfie darling?" Lady Celi asked with a teasing lilt in her tone.

Home. Wolfram cast his gaze up at Blood Pledge Castle towering over the town. If he were to be honest, this place didn't feel like home anymore. Ignoring the tightening in his chest, Wolfram lifted his chin up, said, "Yeah. It is," with all the pride left in him then paid no heed to what his mother said next in favor of focusing on the winding road ahead. 

The pressure within his ribcage intensified though when he caught a glimpse of Yuuri as soon as they reached the castle grounds. He wasn't ready to see the idiot just yet. Not yet. 

Everything (and everyone) around Yuuri faded in a blur. All Wolfram could see was Yuuri. _Yuuri, Yuuri, Yuuri._ Wolfram didn't notice Greta until he slid down from his horse and felt slender arms coming around his waist and heard Greta say, "You're home," almost in a whisper. "I missed you."

 _Home._ The word would have lost its meaning had it not been for the warmth of his adopted daughter's embrace and the sincerity in her words. "Yes. I'm back," was what slipped through Wolfram's lips though and with little emotion.

Greta must have sensed something off because she blinked up at him and asked, "Something wrong, Wolfram?"

 _No. All is well,_ was the lie balancing on his tongue but he never had the chance to form them into words because Yuuri ambled over to him with a string of apologies. "I'm sorry I never made it to your birthday ball," were the first words out of his mouth. "I had to go to Small Cimaron. Sara needed my help to smoothen out the chaos caused by a group of rebels and—"

"Yuuri." Wolfram shot Yuuri with a glare, silencing his fiancé as a result. "There's no need for you to apologize. It was just my birthday anyway. I, as well as everyone else, know that I mean so little to you so I understand why you had to attend to more important matters. Now, if you'd excuse me. I'd like to retire to _my_ room. I am exhausted."

"Of course," was Yuuri's only reaction, no rebuttal whatsoever. Not a single word to negate or deny what Wolfram had just claimed. 

Not that Wolfram expected any. He didn't dare glance back to see what expression Yuuri was wearing, just angled his head enough to address his daughter, saying, "I'll talk to you later, Greta," then made a beeline toward his room – his own private bedroom and not the royal bedchamber he had been sharing with Yuuri.

It was after he'd discarded his scabbard and his jacket that he felt the added weight on his finger, prompting him to lift his hand so he could stare at the elegantly carved vines that ran along the surface of the silver ring he wore. It was a gift. From a 'friend.' 

_"It's a friendship ring,"_ Siegfrid had said, _so you won't forget me._

As if he could forget that gentle smile, the alluring golden eyes and blue-black tresses that fell in layers around that man's ethereal face. Wolfram felt his heart skip at the thought.

If it wasn't for Siegfrid – his carefree humor, the gentlemanly way he treated Wolfram, his noble but nonetheless down-to-earth demeanor – Wolfram would have been left brooding for the entirety of his stay at Bielefelt. 

The man was so easy to get along with – considering Wolfram's nature (or lack thereof) when it came to socializing – that their mere acquaintance status was quick to evolve into what Wolfram would like to consider the early stages of friendship.

And it was because of Siegfrid that leaving had been harder. That returning to Blood Pledge felt more like a burden now, as if walking into a death trap. That Bielefelt mansion felt more of a home than this castle ever could.

Wolfram fell on his bed, his back sinking on the soft mattress. His thumb felt the irregular surface of the ring while his mind slowly drifted off to that plane between consciousness and the first layers of slumber. He wasn't sure if it was only his imagination, if fatigue had finally conquered the last vestiges of his acute awareness. But somehow, somehow he felt the ring tighten around his finger. 

 

*

 

"What do you mean by strange?" Murata lifted his gaze off the book he'd been reading to regard Yuuri with a quizzical look, his eyebrows pinched; dark eyes reflecting perplexity behind his glasses.

"I don't know. I mean…" Yuuri ran a hand over his face as if the gesture alone could clear the jumbled thoughts swirling in his head at the moment. The papers on his desk lay forgotten. "I know he's mad at me for not being able to make it at his birthday bash. But he's been too distant lately. Like. Like…"

"He's a different Wolfram entirely?" Murata filled in, his face now hidden behind a mask of indifference that made it difficult for Yuuri to tell whether his friend was mocking him or was being philosophical as usual.

"Kind of. Yes." Yuuri was close to imploding out of frustration. Wolfram had barely said a whole sentence to him since he came back from Bielefelt. His golden-haired fiancé would miss meals most of the time in favor of patrolling the nearby areas or having meals in his room. And speaking of his room, he had even stopped sleeping in Yuuri's chamber altogether. 

Frustrating.

Yuuri had run out of ways to apologize.

"Can't blame him though." Murata's attention was back on the page he had abandoned. "I don't know if you've realized it but you've been neglecting him these past few months." 

"Neglecting him?"

Murata eyed him with blatant incredulity, one dark eyebrow sliding higher than the other. "I know you can be totally obtuse at times, Shibuya. But seriously." He flipped the book close and pushed it away, shifting on his seat to face Yuuri, one arm resting on the table while the other hung limply over the backrest of his wooden chair. 

Feeling like he was about to be chastised, Yuuri reclined slightly, his spine making contact on the cushioned back of his caquetoire. 

"Think, Shibuya," Murata blurted as if there wasn't a considerable pause that hung in the air for a few seconds. "You didn't just fail to attend Lord von Bielefelt's birthday celebration. You missed it because you had to go help King Saralegi, which," Murata raised his hand with his palm facing Yuuri as soon as Yuuri's lips parted to contest, "I know is your duty to the alliance country. But then Wolfram rarely celebrates his birthday." His voice had gone softer then, nearly murmuring, "Not to mention that the ball was devised by his uncle because I think Lord Waltorana is trying to win your fiancé over. Probably so little Lord von Bielefelt would consider renouncing your engagement and move to Bielefelt where he could then be shaped into a suitable heir."

Out of all the words that tumbled out of Murata's mouth, the only ones that registered in Yuuri's mind was the part where Wolfram would consider renouncing their engagement. Though admittedly, this was exactly what Yuuri would've wanted in the past, but now… but now… 

If his thoughts were cluttered in a messy tangle earlier, it was worse now and the only coherent response that Yuuri could form was, "What?"

"Never mind that," Murata said, almost defensively. "It's just a hypothesis. Anyway. Remember when you likewise failed to accompany your beloved fiancé at the Military Academy where he had to do a speech because you had an errand in our world? Only that errand involved an impromptu date with Mei." The corners of Murata's mouth curled to form a conniving smirk.

"Wait a minute. That wasn't—"

"Then there was also the time when you missed his art exhibit because you had to meet with Lady Flynn. Imagine what people were thinking back then: the future prince consort trying to raise funds for charity without the king by his side." There was no doubt that Murata was now rubbing salt in his wound.

"Alright, alright. I get it." Yuuri flailed his hand, feeling culpable all of a sudden. If guilt came in the form of water, he would've drowned in it already. "And I know Wolfram has every reason to be furious at me. But you weren't listening, Murata. This time it's different. There are times when he seems to be, like what you pointed out earlier, a different person entirely."

"Does he act similar to how he was when possessed by Soushu?" The Great Sage asked in a rather analytical undertone.

"Now that you mentioned it, it does remind me of _that_ Wolfram. But I don't think that's—"

"Look, Shibuya. Maybe you're just being paranoid, the fact that you feel guilty and you're always uneasy whenever Lord von Bielefelt is upset with you."

"Maybe you're right. But what do I do?"

Murata rose from his chair to approach Yuuri's desk then leaned his backside against the side of the furniture. "Just relax, give Lord von Bielefelt some space. I'm sure he'll come out of it in a few days or so." He slid his hands in his pant pockets, eyes slanting over to Yuuri. "Tell me something though, Shibuya. How do you really feel about Lord—I mean Wolfram?" 

"Honestly?" Yuuri could give his usual lame response – that Wolfram is an important friend he cares about – but then again, Yuuri was sick and tired of lying. To himself. To everyone around him. "I think I'm warming up to the idea of starting a real relationship with him. Setting all ideals aside, I think it's not that hard to fall in love with Wolfram after all."

The smile that curved on Murata's lips was more sincere than it was devious. "Then why don't you woo your dear Wolfram? Do something nice for him."

"Like what?"

Murata snorted. He reached out to pat Yuuri on the shoulder. "I'm sure you'll come up with an idea or two. Think about it." He pushed away from the desk and proceeded to the door. "I have to go back to the shrine. I'll see you later, Shibuya."

When the door closed behind Murata, Yuuri drew his attention back to the documents he was supposed to be working on. Among the sheets was a leaflet for a traveling carnival where a letter requesting for permission to hold it within the vicinity of the capital was attached. Yuuri thought it would be a perfect opportunity for him to spend time with Wolfram. Without further deliberation, he signed the approval thinking of discussing the security measures with Gwendal later. Then just like that, he felt like a huge boulder had been lifted off his shoulders.

 

*

 

The parchment in his hand crumpled when Wolfram's fingers closed in on it. His uncle's handwriting blurred a little and Wolfram had to blink the tears away before reading through its contents once more. For the umpteenth time since he received the correspondence a week ago.

Lord Waltorana von Bielefelt had been adamant (even in his letter) in asking Wolfram if he had come to a decision regarding his uncle's forthright proposal in grooming Wolfram to be the next ruler of the Bielefelt territory. Accepting it would mean he had to leave Blood Pledge Castle. It meant he had to…

Wolfram tossed the letter on his desk and made his way to his bed; climbed over the mattress and curled up on his side. 

There wasn't any point in holding onto whatever hope he had that Yuuri would acknowledge him as a fiancé. Although Yuuri had stopped denying it long ago, he hadn't actually expressed any interest in marrying Wolfram at all. So Wolfram had reached an irrevocable resolution: he would request a formal dissolution of his engagement to King Yuuri.

It was time to end this madness. It was time for Wolfram to move on. 

Fate seemed to be playing tricks on him though. He had meant to discuss this matter with Yuuri, but the Maoh had often been slipping through his fingers the past week, often coming up with an excuse to avoid the topic. Either that or a bizarre situation (such as the lower level of the castle's west wing suddenly getting flooded, or the horses running out of the stables on a stampede, or Yuuri suddenly developing a nasty case of allergy that he had to see Gisela right away) would seize his chance and Wolfram would eventually lose the will to raise the issue.

Then there was the other night when Yuuri stormed into his bedroom and literally dragged him towards the royal bedchamber, coaxed him to climb onto the bed then snuggled – _freaking snuggled!_ – next to him. 

Shinou help him, but Wolfram was close to losing his wits.

The soft knock on the door followed by Greta's voice calling out his name interrupted his musings.

"Come in," he told Greta only to regret saying so the moment the door swung open to reveal not only his daughter but Yuuri in tow. Wolfram pushed himself upright but remained seated on the edge of his bed.

"Wolfram, look at this!" his teenage daughter exclaimed, holding up a piece of parchment with colorful images on it and on top, in bold Shin Makoku writing, was written: _The Magnificent Traveling Carnival._ "Yuuri said the three of us could go. Erm, four actually. Including Conrad." Her eyes were alight with enthusiasm which, in turn, triggered some spark in Wolfram's otherwise disconsolate mood. 

Wolfram contemplated for a while. 

"You will come with us, won't you?" Greta asked when he didn't respond.

What harm could it do? Besides, he hadn't spent much time with Greta since he arrived. "Of course," he said and it wasn't just the sparkle in Greta's eyes he noticed. Yuuri's face likewise brightened.

"That's great, Wolf," Yuuri said, his hand landing on the curve of Wolfram's shoulder. The touch sent a surge of tingles up Wolfram's neck. Before he could even think of brushing Yuuri's hand away, Yuuri had released him and marched over to the door saying, "I'll go ahead and let Gwendal and Conrad know."

He was doomed, wasn't he? He would never be free of Yuuri.

The next day came too fast, in Wolfram's opinion and before he knew it, he was wandering through the town dressed as a commoner and into the open area where the carnival was set up. The sun was about to set so torches were lit, giving the place an eerie feel. There were a lot of colorful tents around. Men and women in glittering masks and garish costumes littered the area. The various types of music – from slow ballads to upbeat tunes – filled the air. 

Greta's high-pitched voice rose above the noise. "I want a fluff!" She grabbed Yuuri's hand and led him to a booth selling colorful sweets that came in cloud-like forms. 

"A fluff?" Yuuri said, eyeing the ones on display. "On Ear—I mean, where I come from we call that cotton candy."

"I want the pink one," Wolfram heard Greta say before a soft, beguiling melody brushed against his ears. He turned around in search for the source, gradually discerning that the sound seemed to be coming from a flute. 

The music spoke to him, whispering his name. _Wolfram. Wolfram, come to me,_ seemed to resonate through the melody. Every note coiled around him like a gentle breeze then it seeped through his skin and coursed through veins, prompting his legs to move. 

_Wolfram. Wolfram._

Everything around him faded and all Wolfram could see was a dark alley ahead. Within its dark confines lingered a silhouette of a person – a man, he guessed. The moon then cast a soft yellow glow above them, allowing Wolfram to see the stranger better. It was a man indeed, wearing a mask bedecked with colorful gems, his dark hair glistening against the hazy beam that caressed his head. Over his lips was a flute, an enchanting tune spiraling out of the instrument. 

"Wolfram?" 

Hearing Yuuri's voice yanked him out of whatever (spell) he was under and Wolfram mentally pushed away the weight that seemed to be clinging on his shoulders. 

"Wolfram? You okay?" Yuuri was already beside him, his hand on Wolfram's shoulder, eyes filled with what Wolfram can only interpret as concern. For him? _No._ He couldn't think that. It was only natural for Yuuri to worry over everyone around him. He wasn't… wasn't special.

"Hmm?" was all he managed to utter in his post-stupor state.

"You okay?" Yuuri's hand slid across his shoulders and Wolfram almost cringed when he felt his fiancé drape an arm around him. "I was asking what flavor of fluff you wanted but when I turned around, you weren't there, so we had to look for you and… well, here you are. What are you doing here anyway?"

 _'Here'_ turned out to be a few meters outside the carnival area and Wolfram had no clue how he ended up there. When he tried to recall what happened, his head throbbed from the effort. "I uh…" He pressed the heel of his hand against his temple. "I feel a headache coming. Would you mind if I go back to the castle now?"

The worry reflected on Yuuri's dark eyes never left. "Sure. We can all go home now."

"No." Wolfram didn't want Yuuri with him right now. He just wanted to be left alone. "No. You… you guys can stay here."

Yuuri's arm fell away from Wolfram's shoulder only for the king to hold him at arms length. "Nonsense. I'm not letting you go back alone. Besides, it's almost time for dinner. I hear the maids prepared our favorite dishes."

Somehow, he felt too weak to refuse Yuuri, so Wolfram could do nothing but acquiesce. "Okay." He hated the fact that just when he was trying to push Yuuri away, Yuuri seemed to be pulling him closer.

 

*

 

It was the last day of the circus. Yuuri wished he could take Wolfram and Greta to the festivities but he had so much work to do earlier in the day. So he had been locked up in his office while Wolfram claimed he had to train his new recruits.

Greta ended up going with Hube, Nicola and El instead. 

Before dinner, they camped out on the castle grounds to watch the fireworks display. Yuuri stood by Wolfram's side in silence, recalling what Murata had told him earlier when Yuuri asked for advice on how to get back in Wolfram's good graces. It had been two weeks and still…

 _"A romantic gesture might work,"_ the Great Sage had said with a devious glint in his eyes.

Romantic gesture? Yuuri failed at anything romantic, if Wolfram's sour mood whenever he was around Yuuri was any proof.

A sharp explosive noise from the distance made Yuuri jerk and his eyes darted toward the sky where a ball of white light was ascending. Then it burst into a colorful array of red, blue and yellow. Soon, the sky was sparkling as if thousands of jewels were thrown against the sooty-black backdrop that loomed above them. 

Yuuri shifted his gaze to the golden-haired man standing beside him and felt his heart rise up to his throat upon seeing the brilliant lights coloring the sky reflected on Wolfram's porcelain-like face. He was breathtakingly gorgeous. The glass case that had always held his heart cracked and something unfurled in Yuuri's chest at that moment. 

"It's beautiful," fell from Wolfram's lips.

Yuuri was unable to tear his eyes away from his fiancé. "Yeah. Beautiful."

And when Wolffram turned his way, his emerald eyes holding Yuuri's dark ones captive, Yuuri knew right then that this man… this man…

"Boys." Lady Celi said in singsong tone. "You're missing the fireworks display." She regarded them with a look that sent the heat already resting on Yuuri's cheeks surge up to the tip of his ears. 

"Um. Right." Wolfram said, glancing skyward, his face adopting the shade of scarlet. 

Yuuri shifted his attention back to the radiant spectacle in the distance but his entire focus remained on his fiancé, hyper aware of everything that was Wolfram now – his scent (a mix of vanilla and spring flowers and fiery musk that is just so… Wolfram), his warmth, his presence. 

Before he lost his nerves, Yuuri moved his arm and hooked his pinky finger with Wolfram's, watching his fiancé through the corner of his eye. There was no mistaking the smile that teased on Wolfram's plump-looking lips and that alone made something in Yuuri's heart blossom.

They were about to migrate back into the castle as soon as the show was over but then a thick fog came pouring into the premises, causing everyone to still.

"What the—"

The vapor cleared as abruptly as it came to reveal a masked man standing in the middle of Blood Pledge's frontage. His dark hair – blue in color but so dark in shade it appeared almost black – fluttered as the wind rushed forth. A collective gasp and Lady Celi's whispered "oh my" were the only sounds that filled the suddenly quiet surroundings. 

Then the man held his arms out to his sides, said, "A pleasure to meet you again, Lady Celi," and inclined his head in what Yuuri deemed was a courteous bow. "It had been a long time."

 _Wait. This guy knows Lady Celi?_ shot through Yuuri's befuddled mind. "Lady Celi, who is he?"

"I honestly don't have any clue," was what Lady Celi said though Yuuri could perceive the fear that clouded her oftentimes brilliant green eyes. 

"I suppose you won't remember me in this form," the man said then waved his hand with a flourish. Smoke rose around him, obscuring him from Yuuri's vision. 

When the mist dissipated, there, in place of the masked man, was an old fellow, shorter in height with long white hair cascading over his shoulders, thinning beard covering his jaw and his dark gold eyes held so much malice that it sent shivers up Yuuri's spine. "I certainly hope you remember me now."

Lady Celi's hand flew over her mouth. "Oh no."

A menacing laugh rippled out of the man's mouth. "Yes, Lady Celi. I'm back. To collect what you owe me."

Yuuri couldn't help but think, _What drug is this guy on anyway?_ and, with his curiosity peaking, he asked, "What is he talking about, Lady Celi?"

"I supposed an explanation is in order," the man said and he launched into (what Yuuri presumed) a concise version of a (probably) long and complicated story about how he came to Lady Celi's aid long ago when she was held captive in a foreign land. The words spiraled around Yuuri's head like some difficult mathematical equation or scientific theory that he had a hard time grasping. The only phrase that he found coherent enough was the part where Lady Celi was expected to weave hay into gold, which the man claimed he helped her with.

Why did that sound so inexplicably familiar? 

"So," the old man said then and he held out his hand. "I'm here to claim what is now rightfully mine as promised."

"No!" Lady Celi screamed and she grabbed onto Wolfram, enfolding him in her arms. "You can't. I won't let you."

"Why? What did you promise to give him?" Yuuri had to ask although he had this horrid inkling that he knew. 

"You see, Yuuri-heika." The old man's eyes were now on him. Every word the stranger uttered seemed to come out in a snake-like hiss. "She promised to give me her youngest born child."

There was certainly something wrong with the picture. If this was, as Yuuri had deduced, similar to the book he heard Greta reading, which he now recalled comparing to an old folk's tale his mother used to read to him when he was a child, then shouldn't the old man be asking for the first born? Not that he wanted him to take Gwendal, _heavens no._

Wait. This wasn't the time to go through such ridiculous analysis. The man was asking for… What did the man just say? Did that mean he was here to take—

Mist billowed around the old man and soon unveiled the masked stranger once more. He held a flute up to his lips and began playing a tune that sounded strangely faint to Yuuri's ears but it felt like it released some force that threw Yuuri off, separating him from Wolfram.

Wolfram's eyes became dim and he began to float toward the man, one slow stride after another.

 _Nooooo! I won't let him take my Wolfram!_ resonated in Yuuri's head, drowning the sounds of pandemonium taking place around him. He could feel the wrath churning within him until another layer of consciousness rose and enfolded his own. This only meant one thing: the Maoh had taken over. 

Every emotion poured out of him, manifesting into his maryoku. Water dragons rose in fury, attacking the outsider and protecting Wolfram simultaneously. The uproar must have knocked Wolfram out of his trance because he gazed up, emerald eyes shining with life once more. 

"Yuuri?"

That voice, soft like a breeze yet held so much compassion, was enough to calm the Maoh down. 

"You will leave this place," the Maoh said, addressing the masked stranger. "You alone, without taking anyone else, and will not return."

The man laughed – sinister and cold – and seized them all with an evil glare. "I will collect what had been promised to me," were his last words before a flame engulfed him, turning him into cloud-like particles that vanished in a blink of an eye.

 

*

 

Gisela checked his vitals once more, then asked, "Are you sure you're feeling all right?" for the tenth time since they started, not that Wolfram was counting. 

It was a feat to hold his temper in check and the effort alone was making Wolfram's head throb. "I'm fine, Gisela. Just a little dizzy. I probably just need to sleep it off. You can leave now," was his acerbic response.

"Okay then." To Yuuri, she said, "Please send for me should anything go wrong health-wise, Your Majesty."

Yuuri's head bounced in a swift nod. "Thanks, Gisela." 

Once they were left alone, Yuuri studied him with overt caution as if Wolfram would break. But he decided against throwing a caustic remark and instead wandered off to the closet to change into his sleepwear. It wasn't long before Wolfram was in bed and dozing off.

Something pulled him out of his shallow slumber. A familiar sound. Soft tunes from a flute fluttered through the window. He was about to rise but the arm over his chest, which he hadn't noticed, held him down.

"Go back to sleep," Yuuri whispered. 

But Wolfram couldn't possibly—

"Yuuri." The music kept playing. "Can you hear that?"

One of Yuuri's eyes slid open. "Hear what?"

"A flute playing."

Both Yuuri's dark orbs were on him now, the skin between his eyebrows creased. "I don't hear anything."

 _That's weird._ Just as Wolfram was about to tell Yuuri to listen closely, the music stopped. And Wolfram could only come up with one conclusion. "That was—that was probably just my mind playing tricks on me."

Going back to sleep proved difficult but Wolfram must have succumbed to it eventually because the next thing he knew, he was yanked out of his unconscious state by the noises rising from the castle grounds. Yuuri was already slipping his robe on by the time Wolfram climbed out of bed and in minutes, they were both racing through the corridors and out into the main hall only to witness that the castle had turned into a scene of violent commotion. 

"What's going on?" Yuuri caught up with Conrart, who, Wolfram noted, was already wearing his military uniform. 

"There had been reports coming in from town," Conrart said, a bit out of breath. "That quite a number of children are missing."

"Missing?" Both he and Yuuri repeated in unison. 

"Yes, and—"

"Heika! Heika!" 

Wolfram spied his mother approaching them in a hurried pace, tears pooling in her eyes.

"Heika. I… When I heard what happened in town, I went to check on Greta right away. But she wasn't in her room," she said, her lips quivering as crystal clear liquid slid down her cheeks. "Instead, I found this pinned on the doorway, with this." She held out a piece of parchment on one hand and a dagger on the other.

"Shibuya! I heard what happened. Is every—" Murata stopped in his tracks when he saw Yuuri take the note from Lady Celi, prompting Wolfram to look over Yuuri's shoulder. 

Wolfram felt his heart drop when he saw what was written. _'I'll take the children in place of what is owed to me,'_ the first line read. _'I will give you 5 days to find my lair and bring the third prince to me as ransom, lest you want these children to end up as part of my ever-growing collection of imps, your daughter included.'_

The room span around him and Wolfram had to lean into Yuuri for balance. 

"Let me take a look at that." The Great Sage held out his hand and took the note, adjusted his glasses and stared at the parchment. "I know this insignia," he said, and Wolfram wondered what he was referring to. In his immediate distress, he hadn't noticed anything else. 

Murata held the note up for everyone to see. Underneath the scribbled message was some sort of seal burned into the parchment – vines that formed a circle with an eye at the center. "This," he said, finger pressed on the peculiar symbol. "This is the seal of the Warlock King."  
.  
.  
***  
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	2. Chapter 2

.  
.  
.  
 **Chapter 2**

 

After a lengthy and pointless debate (with Yuuri insisting that Wolfram should stay behind since he was the one the Warlock King was after but Wolfram was too stubborn to listen) they set out in the ship that Anissina had designed and created at first light. Surprisingly, the scarlet-haired woman claimed the boat didn't need any maryoku to run. Yuuri wondered if it had anything to do with what she learned during her frequent trip to Earth with Murata the past months.

Gwendal had informed them that they needed at least a day to plan things but Yuuri refused to sit around and wait. He couldn't risk wasting time while his daughter was under the mercy of some lunatic, so Shinou help him. Actually, the Original King wasn't much of a help, only provided them with a map that showed the Warlock King's territory since it was hidden from the ones commonly used.

 _"He'd been banished from the rest of the world,"_ Shinou had explained before they left. _"The previous ten nobles were the ones responsible for sealing him in his territory. How he got out, I have no clue. But Ulrike and I did sense a disturbance. We should've warned you. Forgive me. That is all I could tell you."_

Yuuri shook himself out of his rumination. They were in the meeting room, with Gwendal showing them the map, his fingers sliding on the surface, saying, "We're heading North, past the land of Ruscos to the Land of No Return."

Yuuri's head snapped up. "The land of what?"

"There had been stories surrounding that region," Conrart began to explain. "They say that no explorers who have ventured to that area have ever returned."

Hearing that somehow made Yuuri's lunch surge up his throat but he managed to swallow the bile. However, when he heard Hube declare, "It would take three to four days to get there, depending on the weather. And another day to travel by land," Yuuri really, really felt like throwing up. Was it even possible for them to reach the Warlock King's lair in five _freaking_ days?

His nausea reminded him of Wolfram, who had been quiet all throughout the briefing. "Are you okay?" he asked his fiancé. "Are you feeling sick or anything?"

Wolfram shook his head. "No. Gisela gave me a potion that actually helps suppress my sea sickness so I'm fine."

Regardless, Yuuri was still worried but decided not to push it. Wolfram had been in and out of character since the day before so Yuuri deduced that giving him room to breathe might just be what Wolfram needed. 

 

*

 

He woke up to the ominous sound of howling. Only when he had one leg over the edge of the bed did he notice that something was amiss: the room – which was in pitch black to begin with – was moving, swaying even. There was a moment of disorientation before Wolfram remembered he was on a ship. A rather unstable ship to boot.

Panicked, he sprang to his feet only to lose his balance, almost stumbling on the floor. Almost. He fell back on the bed though, and was enticed to look out the window. Rain was slapping against the glass surface and Wolfram realized that the daunting noise that disturbed his slumber was the wind. 

_Shit!_ Ignoring the way his entrails somersaulted, Wolfram rushed out of the room, glad he was still wearing his uniform sans his jacket, which he grabbed from the chair along the way. Then he fought his way through the throng of soldiers blocking the hallway with the main deck as his destination. 

"Kakka!" he heard someone call out and he spied one of his men worming his way through the handful of mazoku that stood (or more like staggered) between them. "Kakka! You can't go outside. It's dangerous."

"What's going on?" Wolfram asked on impulse although it was unnecessary because the situation was already apparent. 

"We're sailing through a nasty hurricane," his subordinate explained nonetheless. "Most of the crew members and some soldiers are already on the decks trying to keep things under control."

"Yuuri. Where's Yuuri?"

"I don't know, Kakka. Last I saw him, he was with Lord Weller and Sir Yozak."

Knowing Yuuri and his tendency to play hero at times, Wolfram would bet his painting collection that his fiancé was already outside. Wolfram pivoted and, while slipping his jacket on, proceeded to the deck, ignoring his subordinate's cry of "Kakka! Wait!"

It shouldn't have been a surprise to witness the havoc wreaking across the main deck the moment he crossed the threshold, but Wolfram still froze on the spot upon seeing an enormous-looking tidal wave rising several feet above as if it was aiming to devour the entire vessel.

His recently consumed dinner decided to travel up his esophagus right then. Wolfram was in the process of stomping down the urge to vomit when he heard it. The wind carried the melody so hauntingly familiar now, curling around him like unseen limbs. Then an image took shape on the oncoming wave, resembling the masked man he had seen the night before. Wolfram felt an inexplicable pull in his gut that made him push forward, legs moving on their own.

"Wolfram!" someone bellowed behind him and he blinked, saw the murky water rushing toward him before something strong and solid coiled around his torso, hauling him backwards. 

"Are you okay?"

Wolfram glanced up and was greeted with Conrart's anxious expression. "Little big brother?" fell from his lips. The arms around his middle squeezed harder, making it difficult to breathe. That was enough to bring Wolfram back to his senses though. "Lord Weller, release me this instant."

Conrart watched him with every hint of skepticism before loosening his hold. "You almost fell overboard," he uttered as if to explain his (uncharacteristic) behavior.

"There's no need to—" 

The sudden pressure from the ring around his finger followed by a raw, excruciating sensation surging up his arm made Wolfram's heart seize, his vision blurred then he felt his whole body going numb.

"Wolfram!"

 

*

 

The morning after the storm kept all men – Conrart's, Gwendal's and Wolfram's and the small crew traveling with them – on their feet. 

Yuuri chose to skip breakfast so he could keep his fiancé company and watch him sleep. After learning that Wolfram had passed out the night before, Yuuri hadn't had a second without feeling agitated. But Günter, who had begged to come along in this voyage, refused to let Yuuri skip his morning meal so he had sent a tray of food enough for both of them. 

There was a soft knock on the door before it was pushed open and Murata's head appeared from behind. "How's Lord von Bielefelt?"

"He hadn't woken up yet since last night," Yuuri said and he tossed the book he'd been reading aside and shifted on his spot from the bed. "The healer traveling with us said he couldn't find anything wrong. Do you think it was just because of him being sea sick and all?"

Murata shrugged. "It's possible."

The boat suddenly lurched and Murata was thrown against the wall. Yuuri grabbed hold of Wolfram on impulse, in fear that his fiancé might fall off the bed. 

Wolfram groaned, eyes fluttering open. "Y-Yuuri what—"

The door flew open. "Heika!" Günter appeared to be horror-stricken, his long, lavender hair in disarray around his face. "We're being attacked by the merpeople!"

 _By what?_ A string of colorful vocabulary surfaced in Yuuri's mind but he hadn't had time to form them into a coherent phrase because Wolfram was already on his feet, getting dressed in haste. Yuuri followed all three men out of the cabin until they were all standing at the main deck, watching the others fending off a mob of bluish gray creatures. 

"Merpeople?" But… but this wasn't how he imagined mermen and mermaids look like. These creatures had the lower halves of their bodies resembling that of a dolphin's instead of fish tails. The upper part did resemble a human's except… except their heads were of odd shape, their teeth all pointy, eyes were merely slits of silver and their hair were like weeds – green, thick and slimy.

Of all the years he'd been traveling throughout this world, he hadn't seen anything like this. And why hadn't anyone told him that merpeople existed here? He shouldn't be surprised. They had dragons after all.

Curiosity got the best of him. Yuuri strayed close to the edge of the vessel and jumped back when one of the creatures leaped from the water, arms poised to strike. There was a chorus of "Yuuri!" just as the creature's arm swung and Yuuri felt something stung his cheek. Then Conrart and Wolfram were right beside him, brandishing their swords to drive the creature away. 

"Yuuri. Are you okay?" Wolfram had dragged him back inside, his hand coming up to touch Yuuri's face. "You're bleeding."

"I am?" True to what his fiancé claimed, Yuuri brushed a couple of fingers on the spot that throbbed and saw them stained with crimson. 

"That mermaid probably scratched you. Let's get that cleaned up and disinfected." Wolfram ushered him back to their cabin where he fussed over Yuuri like a mother fussing over her injured child – which, Yuuri belatedly realized, was a peculiar analogy considering their relationship. 

"I just hope that thing doesn't have rabies," Yuuri worried out loud. 

"Re… rabies?"

"Never mind." It was so unmanly to wince when Wolfram dabbed a piece of cotton soaked with whatever solution on his cheek but Yuuri couldn't help it. As much as he couldn't help staring at Wolfram, how the blond aristocrat held focus, face a picture of genuine concentration. His lips were slightly parted while applying gauze to Yuuri's injury and seeing the tip of Wolfram's tongue peeking out sent Yuuri's mind wandering to a very dangerous territory.

His gaze slid up to meet Wolfram's, eyes the color of jade softening. His lips curved into a reassuring smile. "You should be fine," was what Wolfram said.

What Yuuri blurted in response was, "You have beautiful eyes."

In that moment, Yuuri felt more drawn than ever to Wolfram. He mentally ripped off the shackles that had been holding him back and moved to close the gap, his lips searing with eagerness to finally, finally feel Wolfram's own.

"Heika!" The door slammed against the wall, making both Yuuri and Wolfram spring apart. A flustered and anxious-looking Günter stood in the doorway. "Oh, Heika! Are you all right? Were you hurt? You're—" The lavender-haired man strode over to them, his hand raised in poise to touch Yuuri's cheek but before his palm connected with Yuuri's face, Wolfram slapped them away.

"Don't touch him! He's my fiancé!"

Startled, Yuuri stared a moment at Wolfram. Then the corners of his mouth curled up. His Wolfram was back in his old self.

 

*

 

 _'Day 3'_ was what Wolfram wrote in his journal. He just hoped they wouldn't run out of time to save Greta and the other children. He wondered what other surprises awaited them that day. That morning's incident with the gigantic whirlpool had left his insides twisting so he had forgone breakfast, hoping that there wouldn't be any more mishaps. They've been held back enough as it was. 

Conrart came to his cabin a while later, bringing him his lunch. "Thought you might be hungry," he said while setting the tray on the desk that Wolfram was occupying.

"I could've gone to the mess hall and take my meals with all of you, you know." Regardless, Wolfram thanked his brother for his trouble.

"You don't have to push yourself. Yuuri had been worried about you since this morning, you know." 

Wolfram scoffed. "Yeah right. As if he cares." 

"Of course he cares."

Contrary to claiming he was all well, Wolfram was far from it to be honest. His thoughts and emotions were actually in disarray, uncertain how Yuuri truly felt about him. The wimp had been acting out of character the past few days, leaning more into being affectionate toward Wolfram. But Wolfram couldn't let that distract him from his end goal. Couldn't let that peculiar change in Yuuri's behavior disrupt his resolve. 

"Whatever. That wouldn't be enough to change my mind," he blurted impetuously but it was too late to take it back because Conrart's gaze held him in place, brown eyebrow arched in question.

"Oh? Change your mind about what?"

Finding it rather futile to hide the truth, Wolfram heaved a sigh and without meeting Conrart's inquiring eyes, said, "I was actually thinking of renouncing my engagement to Yuuri. I… if we manage to return unscathed and alive, I plan to move to Bielefelt Land."

"Don't you think that's a rather rash decision, little brother?" Conrart had dragged a chair and planted it right beside Wolfram so Wolfram had no choice but to look up, only to see that the soft expression Conrad wore. 

"No." Wolfram shook his head. "I've been thinking about it for weeks now."

Conrart's presence was somewhat reassuring and the way he asked, "Want to talk about it? I could make us some tea," didn't imply that he was prying. Instead, it felt more like he was simply being there for Wolfram, as a brother, ready to lend an ear.

Discussing his relationship (or lack thereof) troubles and his choices in life with Conrart was the last thing Wolfram had imagined doing. But then again, he couldn't picture himself talking to Gwendal about it and he needed a way to get it off his chest somehow. "Sure. I'd like that."

 

*

 

Eavesdropping wasn't something Yuuri often did because… well, because it was fundamentally wrong for one thing. But when he heard his name, he found it hard to step away from the door. 

Then there was Wolfram saying something about breaking off the engagement and Yuuri felt his heart shatter. If it were years ago, he would've felt relieved. But now…

Perhaps he deserved this. Perhaps… perhaps he should be worrying about his daughter right now and not wallowing in self-pity. He still had time to change Wolfram's mind after this was all over and he certainly would make good use of it.

Wolfram avoided him the whole day though and that sent Yuuri's mind spiraling into panic mode. He couldn't lose Wolfram. Not now. That was why he didn't want his fiancé to come along in the first place. He refused to hand him over to the Warlock King like some peace offering. May Shinou help him, but he would do everything he could – even beg when necessary – to keep Wolfram by his side.

Exhausted from another meeting with Gwendal, Hube, Conrart and Murata, Yuuri decided to retire at the promenade deck. For the past three days, that spot had provided him solace whenever he needed to think. 

It wasn't empty though. Wolfram was right there, leaning on the railing, eyes seemed vacant as if lost in thought, and he only stirred when Yuuri sidled next to him.

"There are no stars tonight," was the first thing Wolfram uttered, face now tilted up at the heavens.

Yuuri examined the mantle of black that stretched endlessly above. "I hope it's not an omen. I think we've seen a fair share of storm and what-not for the past three days."

"I hope so." 

Silence swathed around them, encasing them in tranquility and Yuuri basked in it, despite the voice at the back of his head telling him to _Talk to him, tell him not to leave. Tell him how you feel,_ but these thoughts were lost in the sea of other worries polluting Yuuri's mind. 

"You think Greta is okay?" Wolfram was the one to break the ice once more.

Yuuri covered Wolfram's hand with his and gave them a light squeeze. "I'm sure she is. She should be. She's a strong girl." They stayed like that, fingers entwined, seeking assurance and strength from each other like they always had in the past. And Yuuri hoped – fervently hoped that nobody would disrupt their moment. 

 

*

 

There was one conclusion that Wolfram could come up with: they did get sucked into that whirlpool yesterday and came out in an alternate world of sorts because Yuuri… Yuuri just made him a special tea and was now cooking something called om… omelettes, or so he claimed.

"Did you fall off the bed and hit your head hard?" Wolfram asked, leaning more on the teasing side rather than his usual sarcastic remarks.

Yuuri stilled, the turner in his hand hovered above the skillet. He looked over his shoulder, said, "What? Am I not allowed to prepare breakfast for my fiancé once in a while?" before resuming his task.

It was clear then. They were in fact in an alternate reality now. Either that or Yuuri was being possessed. He never acknowledged Wolfram as his fiancé. Well, he did once, to King Saralegui, right after the Geneus fiasco was over. But…

"Seriously, Yuuri. I'm beginning to think you're trying to woo me," Wolfram said, unable to hide a smile.

"What if I am?" was Yuuri's half-teasing and half-serious return, his face held no trace of deception.. 

Caught off-guard, Wolfram was speechless, his jaw going slack. He was saved from any possible stammering though when Conrart ambled into the dining nook, saying, "Your Majesty, we've got land on sight."

Probably sensing the awkward atmosphere that grew thick within the small space, Conrart paused in his tracks, eyes darting between Yuuri and Wolfram, then: "Am I interrupting anything?"

"No!" both Yuuri and Wolfram exclaimed but it was Yuuri who added, "I'm sorry, Conrad. You were saying? And it's Yuuri, not Your Majesty."

"Right. Yuuri." Conrart studied Wolfram for a while, as if trying to read Wolfram's mind. Then he brought his attention to Yuuri, said, "We're almost at Elythion. We should all prepare to disembark. We've sent Yozak and Hube and some soldiers ahead on a raft to scout the area. They should be waiting at the wharf by the time we're anchored in."

"Wouldn't the locals be suspicious to see an unusual-looking ship?" 

"That had already been taken care of, Your Maje—I mean, Yuuri. Some of the crew used their maryoku to create an illusion that would make any outsider see us as nothing but a merchant ship," Conrart explained. 

"I see. Then I'll see you all on deck." As soon as Conrart left, Yuuri turned back to the stove, scooped out whatever concoction it was he had on the pan and placed it on a plate then brought it to Wolfram. "Now eat fast unless you want to be left behind."

 

*

 

They'd been riding most of the day, stopping only to have lunch in one of the (mostly abandoned) towns they passed through. It was close to sun down when they reached the edge of the forest and Gwendal declared that they should set up camp. 

Wolfram used his maryoku to create a bonfire where Yuuri and the rest of his subjects gathered around for dinner while discussing further plans.

"If my calculations are correct, we should reach the Warlock King's territory before noon tomorrow," Gwendal said, settling his bowl on the ground. "That is, if we don't meet any resistance."

"Are you expecting some kind of a surprise attack, Your Excellency?" Yozak asked in a tone that was bordering on mocking.

Gwendal's eyes were fixed on the fire flickering before him, the radiance of the flames reflecting on those blue irises. "There's no way of telling what could happen since we know little of the Warlock King and whether or not he has minions that could pose a problem to us."

"You're right. I could ride ahead and scout—" Hube began to say but stopped short when an arrow swept past merely inches over his shoulder and landed straight on the burning wood at the center of their circle. 

"We're under attack!" someone yelled then Wolfram, Conrart, Gwendal and Günter immediately flanked around Yuuri and Murata with their swords aimed in defense.

A blur of gray and brown and dark green came charging to them and all Yuuri could see was how the men or whatever it was attacking them burst into dusts when struck by a sword.

It didn't take long before the soldiers led by Yozak had things under control.

"What were those?" someone asked, Wolfram probably, but Yuuri was still too shocked to identify the voice. 

"Gargoyles." It was Murata who unequivocally spoke up as if it should have been obvious knowledge to everyone around.

Yuuri could feel every ounce of incredulity flowing through him. "Merpeople. Gargoyles. What next?" 

"Don't jinx it, you wimp!" Wolfram cried out.

"Somehow I feel everything we've encountered so far had all been fabricated by the Warlock King," Murata voiced out the thoughts running through Yuuri's head. 

They settled back around what remained of the bonfire while Gwendal and Conrart had integrated with the others soldiers, perhaps to discuss necessary security measures should similar problems arise. 

It was a while before Conrart rejoined them saying, "I already have men keeping watch and have arranged for them to take turns so no one would be left without proper rest." A soldier garbed in a similar uniform as Conrart's came up, whispered something in Conrart's ear to which the brown-haired man gave a terse nod in reaction before shifting his focus back to Yuuri. "Hube and Yozak had already scouted the area. They've reported that there aren't any signs of immediate threat. I guess we could all call it a night and get some rest so we could set out at dawn?"

"I suppose." Yuuri addressed all his subjects, advising all those who weren't assigned to stand guard to retire to their tents. Following his own advice, Yuuri slid into the one he was sharing with Wolfram for the night.

It wasn't long before they were both reclining on the makeshift bed but Yuuri wasn't even close to dozing off. He lay still, staring at the canopy, thinking and wondering and likewise praying that Greta was all right. 

_We're coming, Greta,_ his thoughts called out, hoping it would somehow reach his daughter. _Wolfram and I are coming to save you._

His musing was interrupted by the perturbed movement beside him and he angled his head to see Wolfram wriggling in his sleep, disturbing sounds rising from his lips. Worried, he tried shaking his fiancé awake. "Wolfram?"

The future prince consort's eyelids slid open, emerald irises peering through the miniscule gap, then "Yuuri?" fluttered softly from his lips before he slipped back to whatever oblivion Yuuri pulled him out of.

Soon, Yuuri surrendered to the call of slumber only to be yanked out of his unconscious state (hours later) when he sensed the absence of the warmth beside him. "Wolfram?" he called out in the dark and an uneasy feeling coiled around his gut. 

Tossing his blanket aside, Yuuri hurried out of the tent and was greeted by a commotion outside. "What's going on?"

"One of the men saw Lord von Bielefelt heading into the forest." It was Yozak who spoke. "Now there's a fire spreading from within the woods."

 _Fire?_ "Oh god, Wolfram!" Fear seized his heart, every pulse point in his body throbbing. 

Yuuri ran and ran, ignoring the various voices yelling, "Your Majesty! Your Majesty, stop!"

There was a clearing ahead and he could see a body garbed in pink slumped on the ground. _Wolfram._ The trees around him were already being consumed by red-orange flames. 

On the verge of absolute panic, Yuuri was barely aware of what was happening. Something in his core sparked and before he knew it, he was able to summon the element of water without releasing his Maoh persona. Water dragons appeared out of thin air and extinguished the raging fire before it could spread throughout the vicinity. 

Footsteps thundered behind him, followed by "Your Majesty. Are you okay?" It was Conrart.

Gwendal was the one who rushed over to Wolfram's unconscious form. There was an unmistakable hint of tenderness beneath his mask of apathy as he gathered Wolfram in his arms. It was a rare sight for the aristocrat with tough exterior to unveil such raw expression. And Yuuri felt privileged to witness it right then and there.

 

*

 

The first thing he took note of the moment he woke up was the dull throbbing in his head. When he attempted to move, he realized how numb his body felt. His eyes adjusted to the faint light peeking through the gap on the tent's flap. 

"Wolfram?" It was only then Wolfram noticed that Yuuri was sitting on the futon beside him. "Good, you're awake. Are you hungry?" the king asked.

"Not really." Wolfram groaned. When did sitting upright become quite a task? "My bones feel like jelly."

"I don't doubt it. After all the excitement last night." 

"You mean that bedlam with the gargoyles?" Wolfram felt more displeasure in every little movement but the most noticeable was how his finger – the one with the ring on it – smarted. 

"Well, that too. But I was talking about the fire in the forest and you getting caught in the middle of it." Yuuri got up, ambled over to the corner.

"What fire in the forest?" Wolfram couldn't recall such incident. Not even vaguely. 

Yuuri spun around, eyebrows pinched. "You mean you don't remember?"

 _What in the world is Yuuri talking about?_ were the words that surfaced in Wolfram's mind. "Remember what? Last thing I recall was when we were attacked. Well that and going to bed."

There was a moment of wordless exchange – Yuuri eyeing him as if Wolfram had suddenly grown another head while Wolfram studied Yuuri, trying to figure out if his fiancé was playing pranks on him. Then Yuuri shook his head, offered Wolfram his folded uniform and said, "Why don't you get dressed? Gwendal said we would leave half an hour after you've woken up."

Deciding that stretching his limbs were more important right then, Wolfram accepted his clothes. "Fine. Could you leave so I can change?"

An impish grin took shape on Yuuri's lips. "What? Are you suddenly shy? We take baths together, don't we?"

The changed atmosphere made Wolfram feel lighthearted, though he knew there were more pressing matters that needed attention, so he chose to set playfulness aside. "Greta. Focus on saving, Greta," he told Yuuri and nearly laughed at the somber look the king adopted. 

"You're right." Yuuri meandered toward the tent's opening with his shoulders slumped and guilt clawed at Wolfram at the mere sight of his fiancé looking so defeated. 

Wolfram decided to add, "If you're going to flirt with me, do that when we get back home," before Yuuri could cross the threshold and his heart jerked upon seeing the king's smile back on his face.

"I'll remember that," Yuuri said. "I'll see you outside. Günter has your breakfast ready."

After they've packed up, they started riding West, following the trail that Gwendal had marked on the map. An hour into their journey though, Yozak, along with a handful of soldiers, met them along the way. Wolfram watched him speak to Gwendal then his brother announced that there would be a change in the plans. 

They dismounted their horses and assembled on the side of the road. 

"The path leading to the Warlock King's kingdom apparently is swarming with warlocks and gargoyles. Lots of them," Yozak explained. 

"So we'll reroute and sneak in from the rear part of the territory." Gwendal already had the map spread out on the ground. "There's nothing but marsh on that side," he pointed out, finger tapping on the parchment. "But Hube says that the marsh may only be an appearance. An illusion." His gaze sprang up to Yuuri. "I'm thinking perhaps, His Majesty would be able to break through it, much like he did when he saw past the illusion caused by Houjutsu on our way to Svelera years ago."

Yuuri gave a sharp nod. "I understand."

"Wait," sprang out of Wolfram's mouth before he could stop himself. "Wouldn't that route take longer for us to reach the castle? Aren't we wasting precious time? The limit set by the Warlock King is nearly over. We only have a few hours to spare."

Yuuri seemed to consider Wolfram's assessment but in the end, he said, "But Gwendal said it's the only way."

"It's not the only way!" All Wolfram could think of at that moment was Greta. _Greta, Greta, Greta._ What had become of his daughter? She was probably locked up in some dark dungeon, terrified and feeling lost. "It's not the only way," Wolfram uttered softer, what was left of the fire in him diminishing. "It is I who the Warlock King wanted. It is I he's after. If I give myself up, you all won't have to go through this and Greta and the children will be set free."

There was an abrupt change in Yuuri's demeanor. His eyes had gone ablaze, losing its gentleness in the process. His eyebrows appeared to be drawn tight at the center, his nose flaring and his lips pulled back to show gritted teeth. It was a perfect portrait of fury. 

"I refuse to hand you over like some piece of merchandise that _that_ bastard of a king could claim!" He roared, voice resembling that of his Maoh persona, but it was Yuuri's in every sense. " **You** are my fiancé, my betrothed. You are mine, do you understand?"

With that being the last thing Wolfram expected to hear, he could do nothing but gape at the king. His mind spun with a thousand thoughts, his blood rushing up to his ears. In his state of ultimate bewilderment, the only words Wolfram's mouth could form was "Yes, Your Majesty."  
.  
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***  
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	3. Chapter 3

.  
.  
 **Chapter 3**

 

"We'll make it. We have plenty of time, don't worry," were the words that lingered from Conrart when Wolfram asked how far they still were from their destination.

Yuuri was only vaguely aware of the conversation going on around him. Ever since they set out on this new course, he hadn't – couldn't – take his eyes off of Wolfram. 

There was this niggling hunch that had been clawing at the back of his mind. Something was just not right with his fiancé. There seemed to be an on-off switch that made him so Wolfram-like at times but there were instances wherein he seemed to be a completely different person. Or perhaps, perhaps Yuuri was reading too much into this. His paranoia was most likely getting the best of him. 

One other thing that Yuuri had noticed, which in fact was brought to his attention when they were still sailing through that vast accursed ocean – only he forgot about it. The ring that adorned Wolfram's finger was something he hadn't seen before. 

Yuuri had a chance to study it while Wolfram was asleep after they had retrieved him at the forest the night before. It was indeed odd-looking, with vines that – when looked upon closely – resembled serpents carved onto the silver surface. 

Murata's horse had trotted right beside Yuuri's, his friend glancing Wolfram's way, probably to make sure that Wolfram was out of earshot. "You’re not thinking what I think you're thinking now, are you?" the Great Sage asked. 

"I can't help it." Yuuri had sought his friend's advice earlier. About the ring. About Wolfram. And Murata even pointed out that the image embedded on the piece of jewelry was similar to the Warlock King's insignia. Another detail that added fuel to Yuuri's anxiety.

"Did you ask him about it?"

"In passing. He said a friend gave it to him. Someone he met while he was on vacation at Bielefelt, Seaford, Siegfred or whatever his name is," Yuuri said with a purposeful stress on the word 'friend.' 

"Hmm." Murata hummed, sunlight gleaming across the surface of his glasses. "Do I sense jealousy?"

Of course, he was jealous, _damn it!_ Just when he had finally acknowledged the overwhelming and oftentimes confusing emotions he felt whenever he was around Wolfram and had finally accepted the possibility of having a lifetime relationship with him, a 'friend' came along and decided that giving Wolfram a ring was a good idea. This world may not hold any meaning to such gestures but on Earth… 

"Tell me about the warlocks." Yuuri deemed a change of topic was necessary before he exploded.

Murata had gone serious. "As far as I know, unlike mazoku, warlocks' magic feeds on negative emotions rather than elements. And most of them, the Warlock King especially, are more adept in creating illusions. So once we enter their territory, it's best to take extreme caution."

This was not going to be a walk in the park, Yuuri just knew it. "I understand."

 

*

 

They were close. Wolfram could smell the stench of wet soil and grass. The trail they were traversing through was narrow, allowing only two horses to go side by side. Yuuri, who was riding beside him, kept throwing furtive glances his way every chance Yuuri got as if he would disappear. 

"The marsh is on the other side of that hill," Hube said, finger gesturing at the high mound ahead. He was on the lead with Gwendal. "We have to go on foot from there."

The sides of the pathway were filled with an assortment of foliage and vines. Wolfram was certain he caught sight of movement within the shrubbery. 

"What are you looking at?" Yuuri asked.

"I could swear I saw something mo—" 

A vine shot out from the bushes, straight toward Wolfram. His horse jerked startled, causing Wolfram to fall off. By the time he got on his feet, vines have crept into the trail, coiling around the soldiers. The horses have run amuck, scampering away from the frenzied scene. Wolfram spied Conrart, Günter and Yozak brandishing their swords effortlessly and slicing their way through. 

"Ah!" he heard Yuuri yell and saw his fiancé on the ground, a striking green vine twined around his leg. Wolfram leapt to Yuuri's aid and swung his sword, the blade cutting through the creepy-looking plant. 

"Heika! Over here," Günter hollered. He and the others have cleared a path. Wolfram grabbed Yuuri's hand and hauled him along with the intent to follow Hube and Gwendal who were already climbing up the hill.

A quick scan around him made Wolfram aware that only he, Yuuri, the Great Sage, his brothers, Günter, Hube and Yozak made it to the top. The other soldiers were either still tangled in the sea of vines or were too injured to proceed. Yuuri stopped and crouched, his hands resting on his knees, head bowed and shoulders rising and falling erratically as if trying to catch his breath. When he finally lifted his head, his gaze fell on the marshland ahead. 

"What the—" Yuuri blurted, eyes wide. "You have got to be kidding me."

"I know." Wolfram studied the terrain. He could already feel the discomfort he was certain he would be subject to when stomping through the mud. "It's going to be a messy travel on foot. But I think there are narrow pathways we could walk on—"

"No. No. That's not what I meant." Yuuri waved his hand, laughing and Wolfram wondered if the king had finally lost his sanity. "I mean, can't you see?" He stretched his arm out to gesture at the muddy land below, then he snapped a finger and, as if a mist cleared, the scenery gradually changed.

Wolfram was no longer staring at a marshland. Instead, in its place stood high walls that appeared to have been strategically built to create winding pathways. And, even though he hadn't seen one in ages, he knew in an instant what stood between them and the castle looming a few meters ahead. 

"A freaking labyrinth?" Indeed it was. Which presented another problem. "Günter. How many hours do we have left until the time limit the Warlock King had set is over?

Günter didn't provide an immediate answer. His purple eyes were glued at the obstruction ahead. Then he blinked and said, "Approximately eight hours," like he had just declared that the world was at its end.

Yuuri, who seemed to have been in sync with Wolfram's thoughts lately, was the one who expressed Wolfram's very fear. "We're doomed."

 

*

 

_"We'll split up, go by pairs," was Gwendal's ever-so brilliant suggestion. "That way, it would guarantee that at least two or hopefully more of us would find their way through and reach the castle in time."_

That was well over three hours ago. Yuuri was half tempted to release the Maoh within him but that was even out of the question. Something in the godforsaken place seemed to suppress maryoku. Nothing had ever stopped the Maoh from surfacing before but there was a heavy disturbance in the air that apparently did the job and did it well. 

Even Wolfram failed to summon his element of fire when they came across a creature – a gargoyle – and resorted to his incredible skill with the sword instead.

When they came upon another dead end, Yuuri felt his remaining strength leave him. "This is going to take us years. His knees gave in and he took an ungraceful plunge on the ground, his back sliding against the mossy wall. He didn't give a shit whether his clothes got dirty in the process.

Wolfram gazed down at him and, maintaining a stolid facade, asked, "Would you reconsider my plan?" 

"No," was Yuuri's abrupt reaction. He was back on his feet in a heartbeat. "No. I meant what I said. I am not losing you, Wolfram."

The delicate mask that had been firmly fixed on Wolfram's exterior shattered and Wolfram's expression softened. "Why now, Yuuri? Why now when I was resolved to renounce our engagement?"

Hearing it directly out of Wolfram's mouth without anything (like a door) to filter the words evoked an even more unbearable pain in his chest. "Wolfram. I—"

"Why, Yuuri? After all these years. Why would you say that now?" Wolfram's eyes glistened with unshed tears. 

"It took time, okay? It took time to grow into the idea of having a relationship with you. And call me obtuse, but it was only recently that I finally understood how I really felt about you. I don't want to lose you, Wolfram. Not now, not ever." Yuuri reached out to touch him, wanting to pull him close, to hold him, to feel his warmth. But Wolfram took a step back, maintaining a considerable distance between them. 

"Stop pretending like you care!" Wolfram's voice rang loud, bouncing off the walls that surrounded them. 

"I'm not pretending!" Yuuri snapped back and was quick to regret raising his voice when he witnessed the wounded look that crossed Wolfram's face. But… but his patience was growing thin, _Damn it!_ How could he make Wolfram realize he was utterly sincere? "I'm not pretending," he repeated in almost a whisper.

"You… you said you don't want to lose me? Why? Am I like some prize you want to keep by your side because it's convenient for you?"

Yuuri took note of the evident hurt in Wolfram's voice. "No, Wolfram. Why would you think that?" He moved to grab Wolfram's arms fast enough that Wolfram wasn't able to avoid his grasp. "You mean a lot to me." He slid his right hand up Wolfram's arm, feeling his fiancé shiver underneath the fabric of his uniform, and then cupped Wolfram's cheek, coaxing him to look into Yuuri's eyes. "I know words wouldn't be enough but I hope you'll give me a chance to prove that I deeply care about you."

"Yuuri, I—" Wolfram's lower lip trembled and Yuuri threw all caution to the wind and glided his thumb across the soft, glossy surface. 

"Don't give up on me just yet, Wolfram. Please." Feeling Wolfram relax in his hold, Yuuri leaned forward to rest his forehead against his fiancé's. "I know I can be a total wimp at times. But can you give this wimp a chance to redeem himself from all the stupid things he's done to you?"

There was a faint hint of a smile teasing on Wolfram's lips. "You finally admitted you are a wimp."

A low, hushed chuckle burst out of Yuuri. "Yeah." His heart raced when he felt (rather than saw) Wolfram's fingers brush away the dark fringes that fell over his eyes. He watched as the cloud of uncertainty in Wolfram's eyes began to peel away one layer at a time. 

"You really meant what you said?" Wolfram asked, no longer weighed with skepticism. 

"Every word." The restraints that had been holding Yuuri back these past months (or the past years) came undone. "I'm sorry if I ever made you feel neglected these past months. It's just…" Yuuri traced the curve of Wolfram's cheek with the back of his fingers. "I've been overwhelmed by feelings that – at that time – I couldn't name every time I was near you. I never meant to push you away, but I needed the space so I could reevaluate any sentiments I had when it came to our engagement."

Wolfram's hand closed around the front of Yuuri's blazer. "I was really hurt. I did my best not to show it though."

"Typical Wolfram," Yuuri taunted playfully. He felt a sharp tug in his gut when green irises peered closely as if seeking out reassurance. "We will work this out, okay? We won't stuff it in a box and put it away for later use." Sensing the confusion that simmered out of Wolfram, Yuuri added, "Let's focus on rescuing Greta right now. We'll get her back. Then we'll all go home and be a family."

"A family," spilled out of Wolfram like a swift breeze.

Their gazes were still locked and Yuuri allowed his emotions to guide him, leaning closer and pressing his lips on Wolfram's, feeling their souls connect and their entire existence were focused on that mind-blowing kiss.

There was a grating sound somewhere behind Yuuri that prompted him to pull away. When he checked over his shoulders, he saw a portion of the wall crumbling away, bricks melting. "What in Shin Makoku's name—"

"Yuuri, look." Wolfram was pointing past the growing hole at an opening that led into what was unmistakably a tunnel. "That could be a shortcut."

Yuuri wondered why all of a sudden—

Of course. "Of course." Murata's words replayed in his head. "I remember Murata saying that warlocks' magic is driven by negative emotions."

"So that means…" Understanding dawned on Wolfram's countenance. "The opposite could be its weakness."

Enfolding Wolfram's hand in his, Yuuri said, "Let's go get our daughter," then he led his fiancé down the stairs. 

 

*

 

The tunnel didn't have any complex turns like the labyrinth and Wolfram could only hope they were going the right away. He followed Yuuri's lead with immeasurable trust and confidence, Yuuri's hand growing warmer against his by the second. There was something perpetually assuring in the way their fingers were intertwined. 

They reached the end of the tunnel, which opened to a spacious chamber. There were other openings along the curved wall and on the opposite side was a double door, its height stretched from the floor to the ceiling. 

Yuuri slid his free hand in his pocket and pulled out a compass— _No,_ a pocket watch. "We have two hours left. Let's just hope we don't come across another problem." 

The thumping sound of footsteps echoed from one of the apertures. Wolfram reluctantly released Yuuri's hand and grasped at the handle of his sword, poised and ready to defend the king from the oncoming threat. The apprehension was short-lived though when he heard (what he was sure was distinctly) Günter's voice, saying, "Look, Gwendal! There's an opening ahead," and only seconds ticked by when his older brother and the king's lavender-haired adviser emerged from the dark crevice.

"Heika!" Günter shrieked as he threw himself at Yuuri, enfolding the startled king in, what Wolfram deemed, a perverted embrace. 

Wolfram would have yanked Günter back out of jealousy, but that wasn't the reason why he moved to pry the overdramatic adviser off of his fiancé. Yuuri's face had gone purple. "Günter, unhand him! Yuuri can't breathe!"

There was a discernible grunt from Gwendal and what Wolfram was sure sounded like, "Idiot," colored with a hint of jealousy.

The little reunion was soon interrupted when Conrart and Yozak spilled out from another opening, both of them laughing like a lunatic. Conrart laughing in an uncharacteristic manner was a mystery Wolfram didn't want to deal with at the moment. "We only have two hours left," he said, trying not to eye Conrart with unguarded curiosity. 

"Right. Let's see what's behind these doors." Gwendal's hands were already splayed over the refined carvings that decorated the metal surface when Wolfram joined him to help push the damn thing. 

It opened with a resounding creek and revealed a long passageway. There were sounds from somewhere within – something akin to children crying. This triggered them all to race down the wide path. Some torches were lit, providing them with enough light to see where they were going. 

Wolfram, in his desperation, tried to summon the element of fire but to no avail. Something was really suppressing maryoku.

After several sharp turns, they came upon a dungeon. Locked inside the cells were children that Wolfram guessed were the ones taken from their kingdom. 

"Stand back, little ones," Yozak said then struck at the bar with his sword until it was loose. 

The children remained immobile, morbid fear defining their features. It was Yuuri who stepped up and told them, "It's okay, kids. We're here to save you."

Very reluctantly, two of the children started to move and when ushered out of the cell, the others followed with caution. 

Wolfram scanned the room. "Where's Greta?" The absence of his adopted daughter suddenly occurred to him. 

"Oh god, Greta!" Yuuri hollered and the rest of them started calling out her name.

The familiar sound of a flute reached Wolfram's ears. His hand sought Yuuri's and he clasped his fiancé's fingers, hoping that was enough to keep him anchored in reality. "I might know where she is," he said and dragged Yuuri with him. 

"Günter and I will get the children out, Conrart," he heard Gwendal say. "You and Yozak follow Wolfram and His Majesty."

They climbed a winding staircase, the music growing louder the closer they get to the top. The enchanting trill was calling out to him. _Wolfram. Wolfram. Come to me,_ the melody seemed to sing and its essence slowly, gradually, seeped into Wolfram's psyche. 

A group of warlocks hindered their trek. Conrart and Yozak met them with fierce resistance. "We'll hold them back, Yuuri," Conrart said, swinging his sword with such poised ferocity against the enemy. "You and Wolfram find Greta."

Without looking back, Wolfram led Yuuri further until they came upon another set of double doors, but this time it was clearly made of wood. Wolfram pushed them open to reveal a dimly lit chamber. At the far opposite end were thrones that held the masked man and Greta.

"Greta!" Yuuri's voice sliced through the thick air surrounding Wolfram.

"Yuuri! Wolfram!" a small voice fluttered across the room. 

_Greta?_ Just as Wolfram mentally started to detach from the grasp of the music, the sound ceased and a terse atmosphere descended upon them.

 

*

 

The Warlock King has his hand on Greta's shoulder, undoubtedly preventing his daughter to move from her seat. Yuuri growled low in his throat, his hand curling on Morgif's handle. He could feel Morgif vibrate in his palm.

"Welcome to my castle, Yuuri-heika. I trust you had an interesting voyage?" Despite the mask, it was perceptible how the man's eyes swept over to Wolfram. "And thank you for bringing the third prince to me."

The flame of anger Yuuri had been suppressing inside him ignited. "I did not bring him to you. We're here to collect our daughter," he said, unsheathing his sword.

Vile, demented laughter exploded from the Warlock King's mouth, the sickening sound bouncing off the walls and ceiling. Morgif, not being really helpful, moaned in response.

When the cursed king finally quieted down, he sneered at Yuuri and said, "Well, that's not quite a decision for you to make now, isn't it, King Yuuri?"

"What makes you think…" Yuuri started to say but held his tongue when the Warlock King lifted his hands to remove the mask that had been covering the upper part of his face. Golden eyes flitted his way before landing back on Wolfram.

"Siegfrid," fell through Wolfram's lips. 

_Siegfrid? Siegfrid._ Why does it seem like he had heard that name before? Then something snapped in Yuuri. 

The Warlock King – Siegfrid held out his hand to Wolfram. "Come, my prince. I'll be the one to provide you a home that you so longed for. I will love you the way you deserve to be loved."

Wolfram drifted over to the Warlock King in slow, labored strides.

Yuuri attempted to stop Wolfram but some force shoved him away, knocking him off balance until his butt connected with the floor. "Wolfram, don't." Through the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Murata sneaking out from behind a curtain and crept silently toward Greta. 

_Good. Once Greta is safe then…_

Wolfram had reached the Warlock King's side. The king's gloved hand curled at the back of Wolfram's neck, pulling the blond prince closer.

The Maoh raged within Yuuri, struggling to be released. His body was on fire, blood rushing through his veins like lava. But when he met Murata's gaze, he was reminded that negative emotions fuel warlock's magic. So Yuuri stifled his fury. Instead, he focused on Wolfram, on the promise they made, on a future they could build together.

"Wolfram," he called out, desperation lacing his voice. "Remember what I told you earlier? Remember our promise?"

As if yanked out of daze, Wolfram's shoulders jerked. He spun around to face Yuuri, the mist clouding his eyes dissipating. 

The Warlock King lifted the flute to his lips and, as soon as a string of melody spiral out of the instrument, the mist veiled Wolfram's eyes once more.

"Shibuya! The ring!" Murata, who was already holding onto Greta, yelled from the corner. 

Yuuri leapt to his feet and, when he made to grab Wolfram, saw a blur of movement from behind the Warlock King. Once he was back on the ground with Wolfram in his arms, he glanced back over his shoulder and saw (a smiling?) Hube holding Siegfrid down.

With the task in mind, Yuuri held Wolfram's wrist but when he touched the metal band around Wolfram's finger, the damn thing singed his skin that he had to pull his hand back and thrust the injured appendage in his mouth. 

_Shit, shit, shit._ Positive thoughts. Positive thoughts. Yuuri dug deep down and hauled every single positive emotion he had swirling inside him.

"Wolfram, listen to me." He pressed Wolfram's hand against chest, right where his heart is beating wildly. "I won't give you up. I'm not handing you over to him. I'm not leaving you here." With the uninjured finger on his other hand, he pushed away the blond locks that curled over Wolfram's cheeks then pressed his palm against the silk-like skin. 

"Y-Yuuri," escaped Wolfram's mouth with strangled effort.

"I'm here, Wolfram. And I hold true to my word that I truly, deeply care for you." Then, as if a puzzle he'd been trying to solve all these months, everything fell into place. 

It all came in a clear picture: The reason why his heart raced whenever he chanced upon Wolfram's smile. Why he felt like drowning every time he witnessed those emerald eyes brighten. Why Wolfram's voice, even when spewing insults, felt like a blanket wrapping around him and keeping him warm. Why sleep eluded him if Wolfram wasn't lying by his side. 

"Wolfram," he whispered, his face barely an inch above his fiancé's. "I—" There was a name to it – the feelings that had been consuming him, making his head swirl, his chest ache, and his entire focus going haywire. And Yuuri allowed those feelings to take form and spill out of him in words. "I love you."

His lips crashed against Wolfram's, punctuating his confession, sealing his promise and claiming Wolfram as his own, his betrothed, his partner in life. 

The sound of metal cluttering on the ground prompted Yuuri to pull back and found the ring that was on Wolfram's finger bouncing across the floor. 

"NO!" The Warlock King's anguish cry echoed around the chamber, making the walls tremble.

"Shibuya!" Murata ran across the room with Greta in tow. "We have to get out of here."

Yuuri saw Hube release the Warlock King just as smoke rose around them. He made his way to Yuuri, asked, "Your Majesty, are you alright?" and helped him and Wolfram to their feet.

Conrart appeared by the doorway. "Yuuri! Follow me. Yozak found the quickest way out." While they were sprinting down the corridors, Conrart explained that they won't be able to use the tunnel anymore since the whole castle seemed to be collapsing.

"Please tell me we won't have to go through that damn labyrinth again," Yuuri griped, his hold on Wolfram's hand tightening. 

It was Yozak who said, "No, Your Majesty. We're going through the main entrance," in a way that somehow failed to reassure Yuuri. Something was bound to go wrong.

His intuition proved to be correct when they reached the entrance hall where warlocks were waiting to greet them. But, to Yuuri's astonishment, they weren't as fearsome as the ones they encountered. They were easily overwhelmed by Yozak, Conrart and Hube combined.

"Who says that the idea of happy, positive thoughts defeating evil is cliché?" Murata muttered beside him. 

Greta, who had been silent throughout the ordeal, pressed her head against Yuuri's arm. "Yuuri, I'm scared."

Yuuri wrapped his free arm around her shoulders. "We'll be fine. We'll be home soon."

Once the hall was free of any lingering warlock and gargoyle, they rushed outside to find Gwendal and a handful of soldiers charging to meet them halfway. 

"Gwendal!" Greta threw herself in Gwendal's waiting arms. 

"Let's get you home, princess," Gwendal said and there was a distinct finality in his tone that was enough to guarantee that they were indeed out of danger. 

Once they were all on top of the hill that separated the Warlock King's territory from the rest of the land, Yuuri glanced back to witness the entire area sinking into what appears to be a massive quick sand.

Murata sidled up next to him. "There's an old folks' tale from the past," he began while his gaze was fixed on the phenomenon before them. "That the Warlock King was given until his three-hundredth year to find himself a partner. If he failed to do so, everything would be taken from him. His power. The kingdom he'd been given to rule. His very life."

"Is that what happened here today?" Yuuri asked out of polite curiosity.

"It was just a tale," Murata said with a shrug but the expression he held suggested otherwise.

 

*

 

**Epilogue**

 

The wind caressed his face carrying with it the scent of grass and wildflowers. He took a deep breath, surrendering to the tranquil ambiance, the sun warm against his skin. The noise around him evanesced into nothing but soft whispers.

Until.

"I wish we could do this everyday."

His reverie broken, Wolfram watched as Yuuri approached him with unsteady steps, breath coming out in short and sporadic gasps. His (wimp of a) fiancé had been playing baseball with the children for the past hour. 

It was his mother's idea to have this open picnic at the hills overlooking the Village With No Name. Open in the sense that it wasn't exclusively for the inhabitants of the castle. Everyone in the kingdom was free to join them. 

"To celebrate the children's safe return," was the reason his mother so eloquently provided just to hook Yuuri into the idea. It had been two weeks since they came back from Elythion and thankfully, their voyage home didn't involve any bizarre catastrophe.

"What are you thinking?" Yuuri asked, already invading Wolfram's personal space. The smile that curved on his lips clearly insinuated mischief. "I hope you're thinking about last night."

Last night. Just the thought made his nether region throb in earnest. Yuuri had been blatantly affectionate since they came back from their quest and last night proved his sincerity in the form of a passionate exchange in bed. His bottom was in fact still sore from their um… activities. 

Much as he tried to hide his discomfort, Yozak's constant teasing made his effort futile.

"Yuuri-heika." A pretty young girl with light brown hair and eyes the color of the sky bounded over to them. She presented Yuuri with a basket containing an assortment of fruits. "It's a gift from my family, Your Majesty. To thank you for saving my little brother."

Yuuri flashed a rather flirtatious smile her way as he accepted the girl's offer. "Thank you. I hope your brother is fine now."

"Oh, he is. He's in fact playing over there." She gestured to a group of children huddled around Conrart then she faced them once more, curtsied and said, "I'll take my leave, Your Majesty, Your Excellency," before sauntering away with a skip on her gait to join the group of girls waiting for her at the foot of the hill. 

The flame of jealousy sparked within Wolfram but it wasn't as intense as it had been the past years. Nonetheless, he smacked Yuuri across the back of his head and said, "You cheater!" in a less vitriolic manner.

Yuuri stared at him, clearly startled by his reaction. Then the king's eyes narrowed. "What nerve! You're calling me a cheater while YOU were the one who almost left me for that…" he waved his hand in frantic circles, "for that Siedford guy!"

"Siegfrid," Wolfram corrected. "And in my defense, I was under a spell."

Yuuri gawked at him, his mouth hanging open. "Regardless," he said, his back straightening. "I forbid you to accept any gifts offered to you. Especially ones you can wear in any part of your body."

"That is so unfair!" Wolfram protested sans the usual bite in his tone. "What about y—"

The rest of his words were pushed back by Yuuri's lips on his, sinful tongue exploring his mouth, teasing his palate, sending shivers throughout his body. He clung on Yuuri's shoulders and felt an arm coil around his waist. 

Just as the world around them began to fade, he caught the sound of catcalls resonating from the distance. But that wasn't what made Wolfram detach himself from Yuuri. He could swear there was a faint trill of a flute piercing through the noise. Then it was gone.

"What?" Yuuri's head was tilted, watching Wolfram with apparent concern. 

Wolfram shook his head to clear his thoughts. "I could swear I heard a flute playing."

Yuuri's gaze swept around the area. "I don't see anyone—" The arm around his waist stiffened. Then Yuuri's eyes were back on him, anxiety and (was that) possessiveness rippling on the surface. "That. Is. It," he enunciated through gritted teeth. "I am taking you to Earth with me."

"To Earth?"

"Yeah. There I can take you on a proper date without having to wear disguises and without worrying that some Warlock King will snatch you from under my nose." It was delivered with such resoluteness that Wolfram dared not defy his king's wishes.

Wolfram slipped out of Yuuri's hold, took a step back and curtsied, saying, "As you wish, Your Majesty," in a mocking, albeit good-natured, way. 

"Your Majesty, huh?" Yuuri's eyebrow quirked and he reclaimed his spot in Wolfram's divine bubble. His mouth lingered close to Wolfram's ear and, in a deep, modulated voice, said, "I'll make sure you kneel before me properly and in the privacy of our bedchamber as soon as we get back to the castle."

The innuendo wasn't lost to Wolfram. His cheeks burned at the explicit images that swam in his head. "Yuuri!"

The air was suddenly filled with Yuuri's melodic laughter. And when the Maoh's mirth settled down, he entwined his fingers with Wolfram and led him back to the picnic spot they earlier occupied.

They found Greta surrounded with younger children, a book sitting on her lap. Her voice fluttered gently while she read: "The whole kingdom rejoiced when the king finally took the queen for his bride. And they all lived happily ever after."

 

 **~ THE END ~**  
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End file.
